


Spell Locked

by anthroxagorus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Dirty Deeds, F/M, M/M, More tags coming, Not Beta Read, Rating subject to change, Sex eventually, angst: ever-present, auror!Harry, but i did a few readings and i think it's passable anyways, closet!harry, dirty word, just a few liberties taken thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthroxagorus/pseuds/anthroxagorus
Summary: In an alternate (post-war) reality, Harry and Snape still butt heads.Snape skipped town once he graduated Hogwarts. Nearly 20 years later, he returns on family business and Snape's missed out on a lot of big news like Voldemort dying. And coming back. And dying again. And the Weird Sisters returning. And that guy he hated back in school? His son just saved the wizarding world. And that same guy? He's his ticket to getting the hell away from the life he left. If they can survive each other.





	Spell Locked

"Oh bloody hell, I thought the ceremony would never end," Ron Weasley moaned, stretching his long arms behind his back. His fiancée, Hermione Granger, shot him a look before ducking back into whispers with her co-conspirer, Ginny Weasley, but Harry Potter couldn't agree more with his best friend. When Ron's brother got married, the whole affair was quick and clean – Malfoy's, however, dragged on for _hours_ , with every formality included, some traditions reaching back into the dark ages. Harry sincerely hoped that Hermione wouldn't be persuaded into any of the nonsense, at least not the required sing-along. Or worse, he hoped there wouldn't be two separate ceremonies - a muggle one, then a wizard's one. Merlin, he could hardly sit through one, even if it was for his best friend!

At least they had come to the dinner portion of the evening, and that's what Harry's stomach had been thinking nothing of for the past three hours. Judging from Ron's stomach, he wasn't alone in the sentiment. "Do you think they'll have roast and potatoes?” Ron asked hopefully. “Merlin, I hope it's not fish, or anything like that. It's going to be a buffet, right?” He moaned and rubbed his stomach at the agony of it all.

Harry felt a prickling at the back of his neck, though he'd been feeling it all day. "Well, knowing the Malfoys, it'll be quail or... something like that...”

"Is quail any good? I don't remember if I've had it."

“It's a _delicacy,_ Ronald,” Hermione said testily.

“I don't really care,” Ron said thoughfully. “I'll eat anything s'long's it's good.”

“Well, maybe we could find some champagne, right?” Ginny Weasley said, looping an arm around Harry's.

“Right,” Harry replied automatically. Hairs rose at the nape of his neck. He rubbed at it, and tried to ignore it, but part of him was aware that the Malfoys were once death eaters, and any number of people there might be death eaters as well. While he could believe the Malfoys were reformed (now that Voldemort was really gone), he still heard about rogue incidents happening every once in a while at the Ministry.

“You're doing that thing where you're talking in your head instead of outloud,” she murmured close to his ear. “Now put an arm around me.”

People stared at the famous Boy-Who-Lived all the time, but someone was definitely hardcore staring at him and Harry didn't like it. Harry spun around and found him instantly – a lanky man, looking far outplaced in casual attire, with a dress robe haphazardly drapped over. He was tall, with dark stringy hair and appeared unabashed to being caught staring. The piercing gaze of this man was entirely too much to handle. Something in the gaze seemed entirely off-putting, and set off the start of a fight in Harry. _Out with it,_ he thought, returning the glare. _Make a scene. I'll be glad to haul you off to Azkaban._

Ginny cleared her throat non too subtly. As an apology, he pecked her cheek and tried to clear his head. Even if it was some old, bitter death eater, he doubted they would try anything. “Getting tired of people staring at me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Probably because you're next to England's _only_ useful chaser in the last twenty years of Quidditch history.” She smiled brightly and waved to an older wizard who seemed utterly chuffed for the attention. “Wonder when the dancing starts?”

Hermione nuzzled into Ron's shoulder. “Probably best we start looking for our seats, I think it's dinner first. Don't you love the décor in here?”

“Right, diamonds sprinkled on every table,” Ron said. “How necessary is that, really? It's like, come see how much money I like to throw around!”

“Yes, it's a bit excessive, but there's also a bit of – ah, _sparkle_ , I think it's absolutely charming! I mean, it's not quite white or grey or anything dull, like that, but –”

“Iridescent,” Ron supplied.

“Exactly!” she said, sounding surprised.

“I know things!” Ron said defensively. To Harry, he muttered, “But I swear we are not having a unicorn -themed wedding!”

Ginny squeezed Harry's arm as the couple climbed the platform at the center of the room in their second outfit for the night. Astoria had tossed off her rather poofy, white dress for a green evening gown, shimmery and trim, in a nearly slinky sort of style. And Draco, beside her, seemed to have been able to convince his father out of dress robes into a fitted suit, equally shimmery blue without the gaude grey mesh. Harry let out a low whistle.

“Gorgeous, aren't they?” Ginny sighed. “Any guesses to how many galleons their outfits rack up?”

Hermione smacked at her arm. Ginny grinned mischeviously.

“All right, I see you, I see me, and I see Gin...” Ron circled the table, examining the place cards one by one and shrugged. “They probably forgot you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and located Malfoy Senior.

“Harry! Darling, we're _delighted_ you came out tonight,” Lucius swooped in with, his voice a silky purr. “Honestly, it's refreshing to know that things of the past are truly in the past, if you understand my meaning. How can I help you?”

Harry put on his best smile which wasn't exactly too hard when someone like Lucius Malfoy was practically cooing over you. “Couldn't miss it if I wanted to,” he replied. “I'm having trouble finding my place card. I thought I'd be with the Weasleys?” There was a brief twitch in his eye that said quite clearly that he was being bothered by servants' work. Tough luck, he wasn't going to bother walking back to the entrance for his table number.

“Naturally that would have been preferred, but it was called to my attention that placing such an honored guest far from the action would be absolutely horrendous.” The man lighted his fingers on the small of Harry's back, steering him closer to the platform, speaking all the while. “This whole seating arrangement is something of a nightmare. No, I have you placed with some of my connections to the Ministry. Thought you might enjoy getting a good report with your future employers. Is that all right?”

“Yeah, that's fine,” he replied, waiting for the shivers to leave his spine. “I mean, absolutely, _sir_.”

“Then, Harry Potter, I would like you to meet....” 

And at the end of the list was the glaring man, just to the right of his seat. Severus Tobias Snape. Up close Harry saw he had a crooked nose and dark eyes and dress robes hanged awkwardly from his figure. Harry took a breath, nodded to the table and tried to pull his chair as far away as he could while the rest of the table all welcomed Harry. Their names had slipped his mind at the sudden rush of anger. 

"Do you _mind_ not staring at me?” Harry growled under his breath, trying to look very interested at the small history written on the placecard announcing the very touching love story of how Astoria came to dazzle Draco Malfoy. (Gag.)

"My _apologies_ ," the other man spat back with venom, "for allowing my eyes to _touch_ upon you."

"I don't like being stared at!" Harry said, exasperatedly. Across the table, a warlock of Wizengamot rose an eyebrow at him. He tamed his voice.

"You flatter yourself too much – you simply looked like someone I once knew." Before he could ask who it was he looked like, a voice rang clear over the crowd asking for the guests to seat themselves. Steaming bowls of a clear soup appeared in front of every guest.

“Mr. Potter, pleasure to be seated with you,” the man beside him started up. “When do we expect the wedding?”

“The – oh!” The teasing. “Ginny and I are not – well, not yet,” he fumbled. “We're just trying to take it slow, I guess.”

“You see, I have a granddaughter...” the other man continued.

“Oh! _Oh_!”

_Clink!_

Snape jabbed at his salad viciously, knocking silver to china.

“Right, I, I'll keep that in mind,” Harry replied diplomatically, going for his refilled glass. He took a breath, repeated his new mantra in his head 'I am an adult.' and tried to swallow his disgust. Time for ass-kissing. Bend over, hope you've wiped.

“Well her name's Millie Draughton. D-R-A-U-G-H-T-O-N.” Harry smiled as bright as he could possibly could.

Thankfully the conversation moved to Ministry dealings and once Harry vouched for Shacklebolt's intentions, the table was animated and hopeful. Would he vote for increase to floo network security or on the _ridiculous_ import taxations for overseas rums? And what were the final rulings for magical creature keeping, because one Gretenson's niece _really_ wanted a unicorn for hols.

Malfoy Senior swept by their table during the last debate and introduced Snape as his 'good, old school friend,' looking cheerful and possibly drunk, possibly hopeful they'd all played nice. “It's such a wonderful night,” he said faintly, moving to the next table.

As soon as he moved on to the next table, Severus Snape rounded him. So much for that.

" _Potter_ ," the man sneered, had actually _sneered_. "Then that middle name must be _the_ James, no doubt. The ridiculous mop of hair of yours – must've known you'd be _his_ son?”

"You knew my father?" Harry said, feeling his jaw dropped.

A hush grew around the table at the outburst.

" _Very_ acquainted,”he spat, “Do tell me where the bastard's at? Couldn't be bothered to attend a wedding he wasn't the center of attention at then? Must be-"

“I beg your pardon?” Future-Father-in-Law spoke up.

Harry found his voice around the shock, gripping his knife and fork rather tight. " _My father's dead_ ," he hissed in a deadly whisper. "And where do you come off talking about-"

"He's dead?" the man repeated, looking a little taken aback. The question implied uncertainty as if asking 'are you sure?'

"Oh, so you didn't _know_?" Harry asked back, equally disbelieving. His entire body felt cold down to the bone. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but he knew he was supposed to be professional.

"Oh, so _famous_ Potter drops off and the media must be alerted? Front page and all?" The man asked irritated, then added offhand, "Loads of people die." There was a small gasp at the table.

Harry could only gape at him. "Roll, Mr. Potter?" a voice cut into the air. Harry shook his head firmly, appetite gone and what little he'd swallowed down threatening to reappear. His wine glass was refilled, a surprisingly sweet red wine. He nursed it against him, waiting tensely for the dancing to start so he could safely get away from the man. _Loads of people die_. Who the hell did he think he was?

His Future-Father-in-Law made a half-hearted attempt of a laugh that no one joined in with. One leaned in and whispered in his ear. A elder witch cut the tension: “Harry, I'm very curious to know what your plans are now that you've been out of school sometime.”

“I, uh, well...” He cleared his throat. “I've just taken on an apprenticeship with the Ministry, the Auror department.”

“I should have guessed!”

He flushed a little. “I'm not too sure what else I could be doing,” he said humbly. “I'm kind of like a one-trick horse.”

“My goodness,” gasped with an amused laugh. “A _horse_ , Mister Potter, you _are_ something.”

“Haha, well, I've always thought potions was an interesting subject,” Harry said, turning the conversation back off himself. “What are you researching right now?”

At which point, music started up suddenly and any answer was drowned out.

Snape had scooted his chair loudly from the table and stood, muttering “Excuse me,” before stalking off to Malfoy Senior. Their table were all staring openly at the man. Harry glanced back at his friends. Ron was the only guy at his table, looking helpless to the conversation around him. Harry took to the wine, watching a soppy Malfoy Senior seem to be explaining something to the asshole while the people around him were now discussing a recent case involving house elves.

When the man came back, he was obviously seething. Harry tried and failed to control his amusement. Tight-lipped, he looked at Harry, unhinged his jaw and spoke through his teeth, “I have been out of the country since 1979 without news. I apologize for letting my childhood rivarly mar the conversation.”

Childhood rivarly? What kind of bullshit was that? Harry nodded and turned back to the conversation. Childhood _rivarly,_ what the fuck did _that_ mean? It sounded like Malfoy Senior had fed Mr. Snape those exact words.

At the dancing started, the tables were moved against the wall. Harry followed them to where Ron had steeled himself, firmly against dancing of any sort. Harry stormed over, feeling his anger take over with every step. For a civility, he tried to tone it down, but his voice was still razor-sharp as he explained the odd exchange. Ron stared back at him, appropriately enraged, while Hermione's brow furrowed in concentrating. Ginny rubbed his arms and shoulders in a way that was meant to be soothing, but irritated his skin and himself further.

"What did you say his name was?" Ron asked.

"Snape. Severus Snape." Harry looked chilled. "Have any of you heard of him? I mean, Lucius said he was a friend of the family's."

Ron shrugged. “If he's connected with the Malfoys, you'd think he might be in high-standing. Pure-blood, maybe.”

“Or a Death Eater,” Ginny reminded grimly.

"But it sounds like he didn't _know,_ Harry,” Hermione reasoned.

“Still a git,” Ginny voiced, narrowing her eyes past Harry's shoulder, to which he was grateful.

“Wonder what happened with him and your dad,” Ron mused, draining his glass and letting out a surprised noise. “Alright. I expect you want to dance out of me?”

“I think people would stare,” Harry teased.

“Come on, Ronald, and let's see how much you've been practicing,” Hermione sighed, tugging on his arm.

“Jokes on her,” Ron stage-whispered. “I'm a _natural_.”

Harry offered his hand to Ginny. It was a good as time as any to get _that_ out of the way. She glided into his arm, nuzzling close as the song changed slow. “Wonder if he's looking...” she whispered into his neck.

He ruffled her hair. “Wouldn't worry about it,” he whispered back. “Did you know that Draco can't dance for pretzels?”

“I think his suit doesn't _bend_ ,” she said, smiling against Harry's collarbone.

Harry snorted, his gaze following on his best friends. For all his complaining, Ron was hopelessly under Hermione's spell and she adored him. He watched them whisper, come close and kiss, then tangle together in some kind of awkward dance-shuffle. The look of pride Ron had when his arms were around her, the pleased and serene smile on her lips - He wished someone could look at him like that! He let out a sigh himself. God, he wanted that.

* * *

 

"Lucius!" Severus snapped, dragging the starstruck father back into a reality. “What the hell did I miss?"

Lucius gave him an utterly blank look. "I'm quite sure you fell asleep during the ceremony, so you might've missed-"

"While I was _away,”_ Snape impatiently clarified.

"Didn't you keep with the papers?" his friend returned, incredulously.

"With the Prophet's nonsense, no,” Severus said, determined not to be humiliated.

Lucius smiled impishly and Severus didn't like it one bit.

“Well, you said what I told you to, didn't I?”

"That bloke over there...” Snape began, pointing to the dark-haired boy in deep conversation with his friends.

"You mean Harry Potter?"

" _Same_ as his father."

"Isn't he?"

"Blew up when I asked about James. And I suppose Lily Evans married him, didn't she?"

"Yes, yes, that would be Harry's mother.”

"I'd recognize those eyes from anywhere.” Snape softened. “She died too, didn't she?”

"Yes, alongside Potter."

Lucius waited, but no connections seemed to be made. Snape's eyes traveled over to the boy and the sneer came back into place. " _Awful_ name - 'Harry.'"

"I would agree,” he said playing with his glass. “And left and right, witches are naming their sons after him; the daughters are getting an equally horrible variation - Harriet, mostly."

Snape finally looked at Lucius, taking in his silent amusement in their exchange. "Dammit, what is it that I don't know? Out with it!"

"Oh, my dear friend, how long do we have?” He checked back over at his son, before coming back into the conversation. “Do you know about the night the Dark Lord vanished?"

"I did think the world was looking very... cheerful,” Severus said slowly.

"Merlin. Well, you've always amused me." He snapped his fingers delicately and a servant appeared, removing the drink from his hand "The _first_ time the Dark Lord vanished, he was targeting the Potters, and while he was able to do away with James and Lily, Harry survived for reasons remaining unknown. You know, blah blah blah prophecy and such. It was for that reason that Harry seemed invincible, that the Wizarding World turned to him again when the Dark Lord rose once more thirteen years later. I made the grave mistake of returning to his side. One that nearly cost me my life." He directed to his son dancing with his newlywed wife. "You did well to get out of here when you had the chance."

Snape didn't answer. Voldemort hadn't been the reason he left, but now wasn't the time for that kind of discussion. "Well then, what happened?" he asked impatiently.

"What do you think? You leave, Eighteen years later, that boy single-handedly triumphed over the Dark Lord for what is assuredly the last time.”Lucius paused, letting the information to sink in before elaborating. “That is to say, you've got yourself on bad terms with the most influential and powerful wizard in our world."

Snape looked back over at the boy with the rumpled hair. _That_ little brat?

"I had hoped you would've had the good sense to seize the opportunity in getting on friendly terms with such a powerful person, but apparently the opportunity was well wasted.”

Snape recovered, returning to his snark. "When have I ever been on good terms with anyone?"

"Very true,” he mused. “Did he take your apology?”

"Not bloody likely," he hissed.

"How long do you want to be in town?" Lucius inquired coolly.

"Getting friendly with hero types isn't going to make my papers go through any faster."

Lucius sighed heavily and pinched his nose, looking upward. “Your ignorance astounds me, Severus. It would do you some good to learn how to appease other people, to show a shred of _compromise_ , or some _humility_. _Are you even listening_?”

“Have you got scotch here?”

* * *

 

Harry thought the night's awfulness had been over when he'd been dragged out to dance and had to see the newly-weds trying to pinch each other's bums when he'd found himself face-to-face with his latest of “new friends.”

Severus Snape rested his drink on an available table, folded his arms and grumbled out, "I'm required by Lucius Malfoy to follow up my contrivance with yet another plea for mercy. With that, I apologize for my... tact early.”

Harry snorted. "Hope you're not expecting me to just _take_ that apology. Or this one.” Civility be damned, now that the room was cleared, he was going to give him a piece of his mind. The man had insulted his father!

"Harry!" Hermione chided; Ginny gave Harry a subtle fist bump

"Well, it's not like he _means_ it,”Harry defended, peering back to the man. “Do you?”

Snape's jaw twitched. "Neverthless, it's all you'll get from me, so take it or leave it." And under his breath: "Every bit your mother."

"You really didn't have to be so rude,” Harry continued, folding his arms and initiating a complete stare-down.

"Harry, let's dance!” Hermione begged, tugging at his elbow. “You promised me a dance as well and they're about to start wrapping up.”

“Pleasure meeting you,” Snape growled through yellowed teeth with the slightest of bows.

“Likewise,”Harry returned, relinquishing his glass then following Hermione out onto the floor. He was glad for the excuse to leave. Even if they were about to do the electric slide.

* * *

 

Unashamed, his two best friends chased one another to their shared room after giving feeblish excuses once they'd gotten back to their shared apartment. Ginny rolled her eyes and tugged at her heels from her perch on the couch. “I'm staying the night,” she announced.

“I figured,” Harry replied, fishing for some water.

She sank into the plush green monster silent for a bit. Harry offered her a glass and waited.

“We tried,” she said finally, letting out a yawn.

“You're way more beautiful than she is, you know.”

“You're a gem,” she replied, holding the glass to her chest. “At least I still have my dignity.”

“Borderline regal,” he agreed, sitting beside her.

She gravitated to his shoulder, kissing his cheek before settling in. “I wish I could've fallen for you, Harry Potter.”

“Likewise,” he returned, smoothing her hair back a little awkwardly with his opposite hand.

“But we still have our pact!” she said between another yawn. “But by – by Merlin, I _will_ be married by 35!”

“30,” he said placidly.

“Well, you too.” she sipped thoughtfully from her glass. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Nah, no time.”

“No time! You know, I saw the _cutest_ guy in Scotland...”

“I don't do cute,” he interrupted. _“Or_ Scottish.”

“So you want, a strong, muscley _Bulgarian_ with a thick, juicy-”

“Keep it down,” he muttered. She rolled her eyes and sat up on the couch. “You know very well they'll be occupied all night behind some sound-muffling spell. I'm more worried about you...”

“I'm not the one pining after a married man,” he sighed, letting his head back.

“Recently married,” she corrected. “And I'm not. It's over, been over. It's just a, you know, gotta show him I'm getting along fine without him. Got any bubbly?”

“Try the fridge,” he said, closing his eyes.

“How weird was that guy?” her voice floated in. “I mean, what, he just came up to you and laid down all the shit about your dad?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes popping open.

“And you know, who actually goes off in the forest for twenty years out of the blue like that?”

“I just wanna know why he knew my parents.”

“Probably went to Hogwarts together,” she mused, coming back balancing a Mrs. Ogden's Sweet with her nearly empty water glass. “Maybe you should ask Peter.”

“Mm. I probably won't see him again or anything.”

“Mm,” she said, sliding to a lying down position, content with her glass. “Do you think Draco was a little jealous of us?”

He smiled at her, rising up and tossing a blanket about her. “Without a doubt.”

“A gem,” she said sleepily.

“Night, Gin."

“Mm,” she replied, and was soon out.

* * *

 

Harry woke up angry, nursing an pulsing headache. Remembering why only it made it worse. Just how much _did_ he drink? He groped a nearby drawer for a Pepper-Up hopefully. Meanwhile, Ginny slept peacefully on their couch, out to the entire world. He met Ron at the kitchen who looked equally put-out. Far forbid the Ministry to grant auror interns days off! But professional Quidditch players? One intense season, sporadic practices the rest of the year. Even Hermione had slept in for the day, given the summer off until university started back up.

“We could owl in,” Ron suggested, looking about as great as Harry felt.

Harry later wished he had. But Harry of the present still felt like he needed to impress his mentors. Without proper foresight, he yawned, stretched his wand arm out and tried, “How bad could it be?” before apparating into the Ministry.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> When I first started working on this story, Boyfriend tried really hard to come up with a name for the Draco/Ginny pairing. Is it Drinny? Gaco? I like the latter, but I hope there's something better out there. Please advise.
> 
> Anyways, this little project has been sitting in my computer since 2015 at least. I can't say it's a priority, but if there's enough interest, I'll try not to leave you guys hanging. I just gotta finish my original fic one of these days!


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